In Over My Head
by ChaseOfSpades
Summary: James Young, a private detective, gets a new case that promises to be the most prosperous venture of his life. What does this case entail? Tracking down and getting information on, none other than the infamous, Ada Wong.
1. Sweet Dreams Before the Start

**In Over My Head  
**By: Chase Buie

Summary: James Young, a private detective, gets a new case that promises to be the most prosperous venture of his life. What does this case entail? Tracking down and getting information on, none other that in infamous, Ada Wong.

_Author Notes: This is going to be a unique fiction being that Ada is going to be a main character and that there will be no virus, monsters, S.T.A.R.S., Raccoon City, so on. So I hope that you Ada fans enjoy._

**Prologue**

The Sweet Dreams nightclub was the only building of its type that sat on the New York coast. From the windows on the East Side of the building you could see where the dance floor extended outside onto a pier that stretched out over the calm, dark water of the summer night.

The club was thick with smoke, the smell of sweaty bodies, and dancing people. The music that blared from the many speakers carried a nice beat, full of deep base and some sort of dance mix. Laser lights cut across the crowed, accompanied with strobe lights of every color, creating a dream like environment.

The building was divided into three parts. There was the dance floor, which took up most of the first level and extended outside through a sliding down, garage like door. The floor was made out of hard wood and would be very plain if it weren't for the hundreds of assembled bodies that moved in sync with the music.

The second part was the bar, which was also packed with single couples looking for a place to hang their hats for the night. The bar was set only a few feet from the dance floor and shared its lighting.

The third part was the second floor, which could be accessed through the stairs that sat next to the bar. The second floor housed tables and chair for those people that were too tired to dance and too easily irritated to sit next to the drunks. Along the edge of the second floor there was a triple bar railing that showed off the dance floor from all the tables. Back behind the tables there were a few pool tables, all empty of people, and a condom machine.

At a table against the railing, there sat a small group of people; one of these people being Ada Wong.

She sat with her back straight in the chair, but still looked comfortable. She wore a red evening dress that was cut at a slant with a pair of scissors at the bottom so that it came to her mid thigh on one side and to mid calf on the other. The dress was a halter at the top, but had a diamond cut out to expose just enough cleavage that it was tasteful. Her legs were covered in black, diamond print stalkings that came down to a pair of black, strap up heels. Her short, black hair fell slightly into her soft eyes as she looked across the table at the two men that sat opposite her.

The first man, the one she was looking at, looked very important. He had an ora about him that just made him seem like someone that meant business. Right down to the twenty-dollar hair cut and expensive, pen stripe suit, this man looked like money.

To his right there sat a man that had "muscle" written all over him. A tight, black t-shirt showed off that this man had spent quite a bit of time in the gym, and probably a few dollars on steroids. His black skin was tattooed around his face with prison ink and on his knuckles he had spelled out "Hard Fuck".

Ada looked from the suit over to the muscle's knuckles. "That's a colorful nickname. Get that while in the pin?" Her voice carried nothing. She held what could only be described as a poker face.

The muscle kept the same face and acted as if the comment hadn't gotten to him. He kept his eyes focused on the small Asian woman that sat across from him.

"Ms. Wong," the suit spoke up "do we have an agreement or not?" He moved just slightly in his seat, crossing one leg over another.

Ada stayed silent for just a moment, letting the loud music move over her as she thought. "You want me to assassinate a man and his family for you." She wasn't making it a question, just repeating what he'd told her only moments before.

She smiled at the thought of it and leaned into the table a bit, so that she could be closer to him. "I want you to know that my services don't come cheap, and I don't do petty jobs."

The suit did not look pleased. A frown formed on his face before he ran his fingers through his hair. "Ms. Wong, turning down my proposal would not be advisable. I have over twenty armed men here in the club, all ready to do anything that I tell them."

"I want you to know that if you treasure your men at all, you'll let me walk out of here without another word." Her eyes turned cold as she settled back into her chair. "Understood?"

The suit made a hard swallow and then looked up at the muscle. "Jamison." A one-word command was all it took. The muscle, Jamison, reached back to the small of his back.

"Suit yourself." Ada said it with nothing showing in her voice. She leaned back on to the back two legs of her chair and put her right foot against the table, pushing it with an incredible amount of force. It hit both men in the stomach, knocking them over in their chairs.

Ada stood up from her chair and looked around the second floor for any way out of the dance club. By this time, the people at the other tables were looking at the scene with fear and confusion heavy on their faces.

"Get out of here." She barked at them over the loud music, but they just stayed where they were, wondering what was going on. "Now!" With that they stood up and made their ways to the stairs.

"Now for a little fun." She reached up into her dress to her gun holster that she kept on her inner thigh. It was a simple 9mm, but that was all she'd need.

The first of the men came running up the stairs and they all looked similar to Jamison in that they were all bulging with muscle.

"Hello boys, nice of you to join us." She said with a smirk.

The suit spoke as he stood slowly from the ground. "Kill her!" His voice was choked and raspy. He'd had the wind knocked out of him, so she decided to take care of him last.

Three men at first, then six, then eight came running up the stairs at her. She got in a firing stance and looked over the gun at the men as they rushed her. Some held knives, others held clubs, and one even held a pair of brass knuckles.

She eased back on the trigger and blasted a round into the first one's shins, sending him to the ground with painful cries. No one on the dance floor even noticed the gun shots due to the blaring music.

Ada looked at the rushing man and cocked her head to the side slightly. "No need."

She dropped the gun to the floor and ran over to one of the pool tables. She spun back around just in time to see the first of the men approaching her. He was empty handed and cocky.

She whipped her body around, sending her foot into his face. The heel of her shoe caught him in the cheek, ripping the flesh open and sending him to the ground.

Ada then placed her hands on the pool table and did a front handspring onto the table. Now her back was to the rushing men, so she looked over her right shoulder at one of them climbing up to be even with her. He had half of his body up when she did a back kick to his face, planting the heel in his eye.

The screams that he let escape his lips were that of nightmares. His hand went up to hold what was left of his eye in, and that was when Ada saw her opportunity. She spun around and gave him a hard front kick to the head, snapping his neck and sending him into the group of bodies that stood behind him. They all fell like bowling pins.

She hopped off of the table in the opposite direction of the staircase. She went over to the rack of pool cues and grabbed one off the wall. With that in hand, she made her way back over to the suit, slowly but confidently. He was bent over the table that they'd been sitting at, still gasping for breath. Jamison was still on the ground.

"This is an important lesson for you, no?" She looked down at him. "The lesson of the day is," she bent down to whisper in his ear "don't fuck with me." She sounded sweet, she sounded innocent, but everything else about her said something different.

She reared up with the pool cue and brought it down on his back with a wet snapping sound as the stick shattered.

With that having been done, she walked over to the railing and climbed up so that she was at the top, looking down. She turned around to the fallen men that were starting to get up.

"See you later, gentlemen."

Ada then did a back flip off the rail, falling to the first level gracefully. She spun her body a few times in the air before she let her feet get under her. She hit the ground, sprawled out with one leg straight out and the other bent up under her. She slowly stood up, smoothed out her dress, and headed for the door.


	2. A Golden Devil at My Door

**Chapter One**

The sun shined in through my windows, piercing through my eyelids and pulling me from my slumber. No need for an alarm clock when you live in an east-facing loft with giant windows all down the outside wall.

My eyes slowly opened for the first time of the day and my radio clock laughed in my face from the nightstand. Up at six-thirty on a Saturday; it was a cruel joke.

I used every bit of energy that I had to pull myself to a sitting position in my full size bed. The covers were laying on the floor somewhere, the pillows at my feet, and the sheet ripped off. It must have been a good night's sleep.

I placed my feet down on the cold, black and white checkered tile that covered the entire floor of my loft. I slipped my feet into a pair of flip-flops that I had set next to my bed, and then I stood up from my refuge for the night.

Boy, was I a sight for sore eyes? Brown, torn up flip flops with a pair of blue boxers on that said "Take it Easy" on them, and you can't forget my black tank-top with a hole in the right shoulder blade.

I was half way through by narrow, but long loft when there was a knocking at my door. The sound was a light rapping, but it seemed borderline urgent.

Looking at the refrigerator, picturing the bacon on the other side of the door, I had a challenge on my hands. Tend to the growling and empty stomach, or answer the door?

The knocking sounded again, but this time it sounded more persistent. The bacon could wait, but not for long.

I reached out for the doorknob and unlocked it, leaving the chain on the door. I opened it to its full extent and looked out into the hall through the small crack.

My eyes took in as much as they could in the small amount of time before one of us would break the silence. A woman, and a pretty one at that, stood on the other side. Her blue eyes darted over to me through the cracks and I knew right then and there that this one was trouble. No woman could look that innocent and not have something dark hidden behind those eyes. The look was piercing and warm, touching you in the heart.

Her blonde hair was wavy and done up nice, framing her innocent face perfectly. A few locks of gold fell down into her face, demanding that she push it back behind her ear.

My eyes trailed down to her red, lipstick covered, moist lips, and continued down to her body. She wore a red dress that came down to her knees, showing off the perfection of her legs. The dress clung tight to her body in all the right places, showing her curves off like that of a hand made vase. My eyes stayed on her cleavage for just a little too long, but hey, I'm only a man.

"Are you James Young?" She spoke softly, but her tone carried purpose.

"That's me. Something I can help you with?" I ran my fingers through my short, dark brown hair, looking back at her with my equally dark eyes. The night before probably showed in my eyes, but I did my best to hide it.

She blinked a few times with those thick lashes, looked down at her feet, pulled the hair out of her eyes with a flick of her finger, and looked back up at me while biting her lip softly. Her eyes looked deep into mine, almost as if she were seeing something in the loft behind me. Oh yeah, this one was trouble all right.

"Its Saturday. I'm not open for business on Saturdays, especially at six-thirty in the morning." I started to close the door.

"Please, Mr. Young. I need your help." She laid it all out there in one sentence. I should have shut the door and cooked myself some bacon. I should have told the dame to get lost. But hey, who was I to turn away a pretty face in need?

I paused with the door half open, not being able to see her anymore, but I knew that she was still there. I slowly pushed the door closed and released the chain from its latch.

"Come on in", I too could lay it all out there in one sentence. "Make yourself at home while I get dressed."

I turned my back to the door and started making my way back to the area of my loft that I considered the bedroom, even though there weren't really any rooms. Past my dinning table and refrigerator, through the "living room" that held a couch and a television on a coffee table in front of it, down to my bed.

I could hear the door open with a creak and then the gentle tap of heels on the tile of my floor. With my back still turned to her I started sifting through the blankets and sheets that lay on the ground, looking for the clothes that I'd worn the night before. I pulled out a pair of black slacks and a white collared shirt with the necktie still loose around its neck; both were wrinkled.

I took my time getting dressed, black slacks and matching shoes, a white collared shirt with the sleeves folded up once, and a black necktie that was done loosely and in a messy manner.

I turned back around and made my way to where the dame stood, next to my dinning table.

"Pull up a seat." I offered as I sat down in the wooden chair that sat before the table.

"I'd rather stand", she answered. "I'm going to be direct Mr. Young."

"Call me James, and while we're on the subject, what should I call you?"

"I'm Nicole Silva, and I'm looking for someone", she said.

"Isn't everyone?" A little private detective humor there. I can't say that I've ever gotten a laugh off of that line, but it doesn't hurt to keep trying, right?

"It's an old friend of mine; her name is Ada Wong." She kept a simple, yet effective poker face as she spoke. I knew in my heart that I should turn it down, that there was something wrong about this case, about this woman, but what can I say? I needed the money.

"Well Ms. Silva, I can tell you giving you an estimate on a case like this isn't easy. If she lives out of town, or even state for that matter, it'll be more expensive, and sometimes people find that their curiosity isn't worth the price that I ask." I tried to shoot her straight, almost hoping that she'd decide against it.

"I know where she what city and state she's in."

"Then what good am I to you?" I didn't bother in trying to hide the confusion.

"Los Angeles is a big city, and I can't seem to pin her. And on top of that I'll need to you follow her for a while and take some photos, take notes, do whatever it is that you private eyes do."

"Well, if she lives here in L.A. it wont be too bad, but it all depends on how much time you want me to spend on this case."

"The idea, James, is that I want you to give me daily reports for as long as it takes. My offer is two thousand a day until you find what it is that I want."

My eyes must have pulled a loony toons moment because that was more than tripled what I was going to ask for. Two thousand dollars a day for an undetermined amount of time, tracking someone that lived in the city. Something that my dad had always tried to teach me was that something that looks too good to be true usually are, but you can't blame a man for being optimistic.

I started to say something when she cut me off.

"And, if you present me with the information that I am looking for, I'll offer at ten thousand-dollar bonus." She added.

That was all it took. I knew that something was wrong with this picture as soon as the figures started to jump up to the five digits.

"There's a catch here. What is the information that you are looking for?"

"That is not something that I want you to know. You just report back to me with everything you get on her and I'll know if you find it or not."

I didn't like the sound of it, not one bit. Ms. Silva seemed like the type that likes to play the innocent girl until the perfect moment and then she'd break out with her true self and put a knife deep into your back. But hey, I knew a thing or two about how to handle myself. My street smarts are the best of anyone I've ever met and I've been in a lot of sticky situations before, but I always prevailed. Who's to say that I couldn't handle this case?

"Well Ms. Silva, you've got yourself a private detective."

She smiled big and it was a heartwarming expression. It was the type of face you'd expect to see on a Christmas caroler or on a serpent that is gently persuading you to bite into a juicy apple.

I knew that I couldn't trust her, and that her pretty face was probably the best lie should could probably tell, but money is money, and I'd just have to see how this one turned out.

Ada Wong, here I come.


	3. Rumble In The Blue Cat

**Chapter 3**

That Saturday went by pretty fast after Ms. Silva left my loft. The last request that she made was that I started right away, and so that's what I did. I started packing up everything that I'd need, took the night off for good rest and got an early start at eight the next morning.

I wasn't working with much, but I was a professional. I had her name, a detailed description, a general area, and the types of places that she might be found. Good enough for me. The less information that I had, the longer it'd take to find the dame.

All of that having been established, I carried the final bag of gear down the stairs, through my office, outside, and to my car that sat in an alleyway in between buildings. A red, 1990 rodeo, complete with hail damage, a few scratches, and occasional dents. It was a beauty.

I opened the back and through the bag on top of my other stuff. I had a bag full of different types of clothes for all occasions, a separate bag for my goodies like cameras, tape recorders, binoculars, and note pads, and then another bag with the mandatory Coca-Cola, Heath bars, and a six pack of beer. Can't live without them.

With all my bags ready to go there wasn't anything else to do but put the "Closed" sign up on the door. On my way back to the door I checked my side to make sure that my gun holster was on and the 9-mill still there. Sure enough, the trusty weapon was still there with the safety still on. Never hurts to double-check though.

I locked the doors and made my way back to the rodeo. And the case had begun.

It took me about an hour to get to the neighborhood that Nicole had mentioned first. It was a high class, art district full of clubs, restaurants, up scale bars, and your occasional condo complex. I stood out like a sore thumb. My suit was ironed today, and I actually had a black jacket on over it, but money can sense money, and they can also sense people like me.

Eyes from every direction looked over the rodeo with disapproval. It was an odd feeling to have that many people looking at me for being different. I hadn't felt like that in years...

I pulled into a parking space, noticing that there weren't any without meters. I got out of the car and found no need to lock the doors, but it couldn't hurt. I made my way around the car and put in four hours worth, which was the maximum. I could tell that I was going to spend quite a bit of money trying to make a great deal of money. Okay by me.

I looked across the street at a jazz club called The Blue Cat Java. Java equaled coffee and coffee equaled and addiction of mine, so it looked like a good place to start.

I crossed the street, still gathering looks as I made my way to the opposite sidewalk. The club smelled of smoke and the sounds coming from it were that of people that just stopped by for lunch. The place itself seemed like me in the sense that we both didn't belong there. The idea of a jazz club probably seemed appealing to the locals until they realized that it would draw in a diverse crowd.

I opened the doors and the light jazz music in the background and the strong smell of smoke made the street seem more real somehow. Made it seem more down to Earth.

The layout was simple. There was a bar far back in the club that seemed to be shut down for the time moment, a stage that sat opposite the door I'd just come in, and a bunch of tables scattered through out. The colors were all cool, with blues, greens, and purples, and there was something almost dream like about the place. Almost like being on a drug.

I walked to one of the tables that didn't have anyone eating and sat down. I was guessing that I could sit anywhere I wanted being that there wasn't anyone at the door.

A few moments later a rather large, black man walked out of a door that was hidden off behind the bar somewhere. He made his way over to me in an awkward manner. He wasn't fat, but he wasn't exactly a body builder either. He was just big. He was so big in fact that it almost looked uncomfortable to walk for him.

He got to me and stood over me like a tree with legs, arms, and a note pad.

"What can I get ya today?" His tone was friendly, but it went against his appearance. You couldn't help but think that this guy was mean, tenacious, and an all around bad ass.

"I'd like a black coffee and some help with something if you don't mind", I said.

He nodded to me, jotted down the order and looked back at me with patient eyes.

"I'm looking for a girl, heard she might come in here from time to time."

"Lots of girls come in here; I'd need to see a picture."

Well I knew that'd come up eventually. It's hard to get a positive I.D. on someone if you don't have a picture.

"Well I don't have a picture, but I can tell you what she looks like and her name." It was the best I could do because that was all I had to work with. The man just kept looking at me. "She has short, black hair, she's Asian, athletic, about five six, and her name's Ada." Crossing my fingers, I waited for a response.

"Yeah, I know the girl, but her name isn't Ada. You're talking about Isabel."

Well the man seemed certain that my description fit a girl named Isabel, so it seemed like something worth checking out.

"When does she usually come by here?"

"She'll be here tonight. Sunday night is when she usually comes in here and talks with a few men, has a few drinks, and then leaves alone."

"Alone every time?"

He nodded.

"All right, thanks for the help. Now, you got a john?"

He pointed back in the direction that he'd come from, back behind the bar.

I stood up from my table, watched the man hit a few more tables, and walked to the bathroom. I pushed through the door that had the picture of a man on it and went in. The room had about ten stalls and five urinals.

I walked over to the farthest urinal from the door, undid my fly and started doing my thing. I was alone in the room, which is how I liked it. Not to say that I get bladder shy, I just don't like touching myself while others are in the same room doing the same thing. Gives me the creeps.

That was about the time the door opened and closed. I didn't look away from the wall before me; I just heard the door and the footsteps.

I wouldn't have thought anything of it had it not been for how close the steps were coming. There were four empty urinals, but this guy was picking the closest one to me? I doubted it, but stranger things have happened. Just to be on the safe side I zipped up quietly and acted as if I were still pissing.

I turned my head just slightly and looked out of the corner of my eye at the man that was still walking in my direction. He wasn't looking at any of the stalls or urinals. His attention was for me only. Maybe he was upset that I could be so rude and park a trashy car in his neighborhood, but I didn't think so.

I kept him in the corner of my eye right up to the point that he reached down for something. That was all it took to make me not feel safe anymore. Fighting was one thing, but when weapons get involved is when it gets serious.

I spun around to face him just in time to see the light reflect off of a blade. The man was about my size in height and muscle wise, but he seemed to want to show off. He wore a tight black shirt that tucked into his black pants. His dark hair was slicked back and he had a small scar just about his lip. It's amazing how I can take all of these things in while at the same time focusing on the blade of that knife.

I turned my back to him, pulled my leg up and shot it out in a sidekick to his solar plexus. I felt the heel of my foot catch him on the rib and the wet cracking below the skin.

By this time I had my body back and facing him as he tumbled back to the ground, but the knife stayed secure in his hand. I knew right then and there that he was going to be a tough one to take down. If you can crack a rib and still maintain enough control to hold onto something as thin as a knife, you deserved the title of hard ass.

It wasn't long before he was up to his feet again, though he was a little hunched over now. He looked at me with furious eyes that screamed at me silently. I'd succeeded in pissing him off, now let's see if I could finish the job.

He lunged out at me again with the knife out before him. Not much else I could do but use his weight against him. I sort of side stepped and jumped to the side while grabbing his wrist that held the knife, pushing him even faster towards the open stall that he was headed to. With no control over his actions, he flew through the opening, over the toilet and into the wall, and first. Another bone broke as I heard the sound of cracking from his wrist. No more holding the knife for him.

He yelled out a bit as his attention when to the shattered bone that had come through the skin on the top. While his back was still to me I gave me my strongest round kick to the upper back, sending his head into the same wall that had cracked his bone. It wasn't powerful enough to kill him, but he wouldn't be getting up for a while.

He slowly slid down the wall, leaving a line of blood as he went until he finally ended in a resting position on the toilet.

Now thoughts went through my head about what could have possibly triggered such a violent attack. Reaching for air and trying to calm down, I thought about all the possibilities. Could be a man that I'd exposed to his wife as a cheater. Well, that couldn't be it because I'd never worked in this part of the city. The only thing that I could come up with was the new case that I'd just taken. One mention of Ada and I already had a murder attempt. What had I gotten myself into?

Now, for most people this would be good enough reason to retreat back to their homes and call in quits, which is the reason that most people don't become private detectives. Private eyes are a different breed all together. Most of us got in this job for the simple reason that we are the most curious people in the world, and that leads us here. So getting a murder attempt at the mention of this woman's name just made me more curious to find out just what it is about her that could make someone pay two-thousand a day and a ten-thousand bonus.

So Ada Wong might be harder to figure out than I first thought, but that didn't mean that I wouldn't be returning to The Blue Cat Java that night.


End file.
